


Fuck this, and fuck that

by LittleLuxxie



Series: Moments of falling [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Custom Hawke, F/M, Falling In Love, Pre-Relationship, Warrior Hawke - Freeform, not so fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLuxxie/pseuds/LittleLuxxie
Summary: Realizing they're in love isn't a welcome realization, for either of them.





	1. Aeryl Hawke

“Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it,” Hawke said as she walked home from the Hanged Man, every step punctuating a word. “Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it.”

She had met up with the gang at the bar, to drink her sorrows away. To forget for a second, not that it had helped. Surprisingly enough the answer to whether Carver was alive or not hadn’t been at the bottom of a, or several, bottles. And it hadn’t helped with suppressing a most unwelcome feeling that had settled in her stomach either.

When she arrived at the Hanged Man, only Varric and Isabela had been there. Anders, Merrill, and Fenris had dropped in later. When he arrived Fenris had placed a soft hand on her shoulder and squeezed it for a fraction of a second. Of sympathy and compassion, she assumed. He had touched her, he never touched anyone. And she wanted so badly to grab his hand, and hold on to it. The impulse had been so surprising, and so strong, that she had jerked back from him instead. He hadn’t changed expression, but she knew him enough to know it would’ve hurt him. But she hadn’t known how she should tackle this, so she hadn’t said anything.

For the rest of the night, his touch still burned on her shoulder. She had a hard time concentrating, she lost her chain of thought every time he said something. His voice sent ripples of excitement through her. The empty bottles had started to stack up around the table. Hawke had hoped that the next one, or the next one would render her numb to all feelings. But the Maker wasn’t on her side it seemed, because every time her eyes drifted, they sought out Fenris. Empty was not the feeling that filled her at those times. When he stifled a laugh to one of her jokes, she could’ve died. She wanted to make him laugh again, and again, and again.

Like life wasn’t messy enough. Now that impossible, broody, difficult elf made her stomach leap out of her chest, too.

“Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it,” she groaned.


	2. Fenris

The wind had that salty smell, and the sun’s glittering light reflected on the ocean, moving with the waves. The sand flew around their feet like little clouds, as they scurried around. The metallic sound of a sword blocking an incoming attack drowned out the birds chirping. Around them, the corpses of already fallen slavers were strewn. After hearing about a possible slaver ring hiding in a cave on the Wounded Coast, and that they were preparing to send off a shipment, Hawke had taken the group with her there. Even though there wasn’t anyone who had asked for it, and there was no money in it for them. This was unusual behavior for her. “No profit, no deal” was generally her motto.

As they approached the spot, they ran into a part of the ring and now they were fighting them. It wasn’t a particularly lengthy scramble; the slavers were pitiful and didn’t work as a team. When the last man fell to the ground, Fenris looked around. It wasn’t a conscious thing, but his eyes always searched for Hawke after a fight.

She was crunched down beside one of the bodies, looking through the woman’s pockets. She straightened her back and got back up, with an irritated gesture she pushed a lock of hair from her face. Her hand was still bloody, and the action left a majestic red stripe across her face.

It twitched in the corner of his mouth, and when Hawke met his eyes, she smiled and raised an eyebrow in question. The moment froze for him, her blue eyes were still burning from the fight. The sun was setting behind her, hairs trying to escape her braid formed a halo around her head. Her lips curled in a genuine smile, one corner of her mouth higher than the other, and she had a dimple in her cheek. Her lips moved, she said something but he didn’t hear. When he didn’t respond, her familiar laugh cut through the air. His stomach lurched and an uncomfortable, fluttering feeling filled it. He did not like it, and he turned his back on her. The laugh died away behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the complete cheese-feast that is this chapter. But I had so much fun writing it, and I just had to post it.


End file.
